Two Sides to Pornography

We usually talk about pornography, if we talk at all, this way: “To be honest, I thought my addiction would go away with marriage, thought I had been prepared for the strong pull of lust and pornography by a four-month fast from my personal computer…” (That’s just part one of a three part take on porn’s destruction of a marriage.)

But we should also talk about it this way: “A growing body of evidence suggests that pornography fuels demand for prostitutes—and therefore, human sex trafficking victims, who often end up ensnared in both trades.” Not only that, many people making this stuff are in bondage themselves, forced to continue being exploited by all manner of manipulation while inspiring the exploitation of others.

Of course, this is all free speech, isn’t it? We are all just a bunch of healthy libertines, aren’t we, entertaining ourselves like intelligent adults, shunning the poisonous ideas of morals, shame, interdependence, selflessness, personhood, encouragement, hope, and most of all, love?

On the Viking road



Tivoli Fest, 2009.

I expect I’ll be posting tomorrow, but I’ll just mention here that I’ll be on the road and incommunicado on Friday. Once again it’s time for the Tivoli Fest in Elk Horn, Iowa, and I’m planning to drive down.

Hadn’t actually planned to. Nobody else in my Viking group is able to go this year, which means nobody’s going down from here with a vehicle large enough to carry a tent for me (Mrs. Hermanson, my ancient Chevy Tracker, doesn’t have the capacity). But I had a special invitation from a festival honcho, and felt guilty about it. Then I learned from a friend who lives in the area that he and his wife would be happy to put me up, so it seemed the thing to do. Assuming Mrs. Hermanson makes the trip, an increasingly questionable proposition at her age.

If you’re in the area, stop in. If you don’t find me in the Viking encampment, or in the Danish Windmill Museum gift shop, I’ll probably be sitting in an auto repair shop somewhere in Iowa.

Journalism tips from (Mollie) Hemingway

Our friend Anthony Sacramone sends a link to a snarky column at Intercollegiate Review: “How to Be a Really Lousy Journalist for Fun and Profit”:

Start with the assumption that your own views are moderate. Within your newsroom, they probably are, even if last night at a colleague’s dinner party you argued for single-payer health care and mandatory re-education camps for homeschoolers. Then, instead of describing the views of people outside your newsroom, just label them “right-wing,” “anti-abortion,” or “extremely conservative.” You might be wondering if, finding rational argument too burdensome, you can just resort to calling the people you disagree with bigots and dismiss them. Turns out you can!

If you need to beef up your word count, throw in a few stereotypes and clichés about backwoods believers. Be careful even here, though, as you don’t want to showcase views that might catch on.

Read the whole thing here.

Stolen Prey, by John Sandford


[Weather] said, “Look, whatever – I’m not talking about all of that. I’m talking about our daughter.”

“I know you are,” Lucas said. “And like I said, we’re all a little crazy, but basically, and overall, Letty’s okay.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she’s just like me,” Lucas said. “And I’m okay, mostly.”

I’ve praised John Sandford’s “Prey” novels, starring Minnesota state cop Lucas Davenport, more than once in this blog. It’s a pleasure to be able to report that Stolen Prey, the latest volume in paperback, maintains the high quality of a series that a lesser writer might reclined on.

My main complaint – though I think I understand his reasons – is that author Sandford starts the story off with a truly appalling crime – the torture and rape murders of a family of four in a suburban Minneapolis home. Gut-wrenching crimes have become an earmark of the Prey series, but I don’t think the story would have lost a lot if the kids had been left out of it. At least the family’s suffering is over by the time we arrive at the murder scene.

Having got past that, the rest of the ride is excellent. The police are convinced that this is the work of a Mexican drug gang, though they can’t figure out what the murdered father – an investment manager – could have had to do with that. The FBI and the DEA join in the investigation, along with a male/female Mexican police team. Continue reading Stolen Prey, by John Sandford

Just the Right Book For Your Flight

Qantas, an Australian airline, not only wants to give you a comfortable ride to your destination of choice, but they also want to give you a paperback to read on the way—a book you will be able to finish when you touch down. Figuring an average reading speed of 200-300 words a minute, Qantas offers several Bespoke books, each according to length. They call the collection “Stories for Every Journey.” Apparently, their subject matter has a wide range, with non-fiction, thrillers and crime short stories being most popular.

Holiday break



Norwegian children in exile, celebrating Syttende Mai in London in 1942. Photo: Ole Friele Backer (1907—1947)

I should probably warn you that I won’t be posting tomorrow, as my Sons of Norway lodge is hosting a Constitution Day (Syttende Mai) celebration tomorrow (6:30 to 9:30 p.m. at the Danish American Center in Minneapolis, if you’re in the area) and I have to be there to lend a hand. I’ll be delivering a lecture on the holiday, which I’ll spare you just now.

The Wardog's Coin, by Vox Day

Because I enjoyed Throne of Bones, Vox Day was kind enough to send me a copy of his new release, The Wardog’s Coin, which consists of two shorter stories set in the same universe.

I enjoyed them both, in different ways. The title story is more immediately accessible, being (so far as I can tell – I may have missed some subtext) a pretty straight war story about human mercenaries fighting an army of goblins and orcs for an elven king. It’s a rousing and tragic tale of men and war.

The second story, “Qalabi Dawn,” is more challenging but interesting on a couple of levels. It’s the story of a desert race of rational creatures who seem to be a cross between humans and big cats. A ruthless ruler conquers all the prides in order to defend his race as a whole from human aggression. Aside from offering a kind of metaphor for the place of Islam in the world, this story deals very successfully with a challenge I’ve tried to tackle myself in the past, with (I fear) debatable success – the conception and communication of a wholly alien ethos, imagining what creatures who really thought differently from us might be like.

Well done. Recommended.

Cain at Gettysburg, by Ralph Peters


Lee would have to be mad to send his divisions across that field. And Hunt was sure he would do it.

When I finished reading Ralph Peters’ Civil War novel Cain at Gettysburg, I almost checked my clothing for blood spatter.

Up until now Michael Shaara’s epic novel The Killer Angels has been considered not only the best Gettysburg novel ever written, but the best possible Gettysburg novel.

It’s been a long time since I read Shaara’s book, but I’m fairly certain that, for all its virtues, it didn’t have anything like the impact on me that Cain at Gettysburg did.

Cain at Gettysburg is a tactile book. It’s written at eye level – sometimes ground level – and leaves a powerful – occasionally sickening – impression of the actual experience of the men involved, generals and common soldiers alike. We are never far from the smells of gunpowder and dysentery and decomposing bodies. We feel the itch of the uniforms, the burning heat of the July sun, and the thirst and hunger of men who can never get sufficient clean water or food. Continue reading Cain at Gettysburg, by Ralph Peters